The Importance of Annoyance
by Yao Kafei
Summary: A lesson in why a fellowship of ten is one fellow too many.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note, the Second Draft:_ This story was originally posted under a forgotten account, now known as Baleeted, which I had forgotten about until a review showed up in my Inbox for a story I hardly remembered writing. As a result, I've removed it from the old account and am reposting it here. There are only two chapters (the third and any notes for future chapters, as I recall, was destroyed two harddrive crashes ago) and no immediate intent to continue the story. I might finish it eventually but it isn't something I'm working on now.

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It was a typical autumn day in the forest surrounding Rivendell. The canopy was green and golden with a carpet of fallen leaves on the ground. The sun was shining brightly and an ominous mist gathered on the outskirts of the elvish land in that way mists tend to gather in unwelcoming landscapes. A group of men walked along the picturesque pathway.

'Men' isn't the most accurate description. Unless 'men' was taken to mean 'male', which they were. It was a band comprised of two men, four hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, a wizard and a small pony.

The grab-bag assortment of races went further into the woods, towards the foreboding mist and the sickly sunlight of dangerous lands. It has been remarked upon by many an adventurer that the greatest design achievement for the world is that most places one doesn't want to be look like places one doesn't want to be. That saves a lot of time and bother for the rowdy adventurer who doesn't _really_ want to slay a dragon - they just want some knickknack a long dead king might have dropped that would look impressive when they return to their pub back home.

This group welcomed danger. At the very least, they knew it was coming and they were prepared to not run away screaming like Fran Walsh(1). They were the fellowship, entrusted with the destruction of the one ring. And they had been followed for the past hour.

It was not the creature Gollum who followed the fellowship. No, this was quite another being who peered out from behind the trunk of an ancient tree.

The eyes were amber with flecks of gold swiming through them, warm and inviting. They belonged to a most beautiful elf. Radiant and bewitching, the golden hue of her eyes were enhanced her unusual burning copper tresses. In the sunlight, she could be likened to a delicate, flickering flame. Yet she was strong as well. On her back she carried a golden bow and a quiver full of arrows. She was indeed a breathtaking maiden, yet warrior, yet elf.

And her goal was in range. When she had heard of the fellowship and their task, she had felt honor bound to join them. With her unique talents, the fellowship could not fail. It was time to implement her plan. She had not been invited to the council of Elrond – obviously an oversight. She had waited until they were a few hours from Rivendell. Now it was time announce her presence and join the group, to be welcomed into the fellowship with open arms. Inhaling deeply to calm her excitement, she jumped out onto the road in front of the fellowship. She awaited their astonished praise.

"Did you know your hair is on fire?" asked a curious Frodo.

The elf smiled daintily. "Many say my hair looks similar to flame." They were already awe-struck. How sweet.

"No, he means it is on fire. Ignited. Soon to be no more," Pippin added, helpfully.

She touched the top of her head for a moment. It had seemed a touch warm these last few minutes. The elf shrieked prettily as she realized the hobbits were right. To think, she could have sworn it was just the heat of the sun. Maybe trying to add starting a campfire to her repertoire ten minutes before their meeting hadn't been wise. On the other hand, this was evidence that she had, albeit unknowingly, mastered the skill.

The feminine yet powerful elf ran like her head was on fire, which it was, to the nearby stream. Drenching her now shortened hair in the stream, she extinguished the flames. Looking at her reflection in the water, she reappraised her appearance. Her hair was still coppery. That was except where it was the deepest chocolate hue where the mud had clumped to her delicate strands. And her hair was also midnight black, where the fire had burned the hottest. There were a few highlights of a sparkling olive, where vegetation from the bottom of the stream had clung to her scalp. Pleased with her appearance, she returned to the gawking group. They stared at her with a mixture of fascination and horror.

"Are her eyes supposed to be that sickly yellow?" Pippin whispered to Sam. Sam shrugged.

"I am Annoianse," she declared.

Gimli muttered, "You can say that again," and was promptly elbowed by Frodo, whose manners wouldn't allow such rudeness. Not this soon, at any rate. The elf maiden continued, unfazed.

"I wish to join you on your adventure," she told them, lifting her proud and partially bald head high.

"You do know we're going into Mordor, don't you?" asked Gimli. The expressions of a dwarf could be hard to discern, what with their large beards and helmets. Still his countenance held an air of undisguised disbelief the likes of which hadn't been seen on a dwarf since the great mead festival when a young elf of nine-hundred and twenty-seven years jumped up on a great oak table and proceeded to dance a particularly gaudy jig and warble dirty limericks for three hours straight. After he collapsed in a drunken stupor the elf was pushed off the table by Radagast, who proceeded to make some particularly dirty yet humorous birdcalls. The festival had been quite a hit that year.

"But of course! I'm here with valuable skills that can help the fellowship," replied Annoianse. "For I can shoot a bow faster than the eye can follow." She patted the bow over her shoulder.

"Yes, but Legolas can do that," Gimli gruffly admitted. It pained him to admit an elf could do anything properly. Legolas was too shocked at the compliment to retort. He stared at the dwarf for a few seconds and then shook his head.

"I can sense when danger draws near…" Annoianse added.

"So can Gandalf and Legolas. Oh, and sometimes Frodo can, too," Merry said.

"I'd make your fellowship be a group of ten! Surely ten is a fine number. A good even number," Annoianse crowed. That was true. In Middle Earth, good even numbers had a history of being lucky. Why, even the rings of power were an even number. When Sauron created the one ring that would bind the other nineteen rings in darkness, their total number was pushed up to the even twenty.

"Well, we did have the whole 'nine against nine' concept with us versus the Nazgul…" Pippin said, casting a glance at the group over his shoulder as he raided the foodstuffs. "Oh! Sausages!"

"What about my overwhelming presence? Aren't you all in awe of my beauty?" Annoianse cried. The poor fair maiden warrior elf was deeply distressed. This wasn't at all going as she had planned.

"My dear, aside from the hobbits we're all quite worldly. Not to mention we've all met Arwen. Some of us know Galadriel. So no, we're not in awe of your elven beauty. Well, maybe Boromir but he's being tempted by just about everything right now. The corrupting power of the ring…" Gandalf explained, trying to calm the distraught girl.

"It is not! I'm perfectly capable of withstanding the lure of that which could save my country and my people and bring us glorious victory if you weren't all too closed minded to hand it over to me, the heir to the Steward of Gondor," Boromir grumbled. Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"Would you believe I have a spare ring of power?" Annoianse begged, growing desperate.

"Not really, lady. The elvish rings are accounted for, as are the rings of men. If you had one of the dwarf rings we had thought destroyed, then Gimli would kill you," Aragorn explained. Gimli nodded solemnly. "And if you are trying to convince us that Sauron not only created a spare ring that could bind the powers of the other nineteen rings with it's evil but that he lost that one too, then you are mad."

"Maybe this would go faster if we asked her the questions," Boromir said, impatient and glaring at the rest of the fellowship. He then turned to Annoianse. "Can you provide moral and emotional support for the ringbearer as Sam, Pippin and Merry do?"

"Well, not really. I don't share a cultural background with hobbits and I don't have several decades worth of shared experiences with Frodo to draw from," said Annoianse.

Boromir rubbed his eyes, "Do you represent one of the races or kingdoms of Middle Earth that wishes to send aid on this quest?"

Annoianse looked down at her feet, kicking the dirt with the tip of her point shoe. "Does being an elf count?"

"Sorry," said Legolas. "I'm here representing both the elves and Mirkwood. We did loose Gollum and we felt rather bad about that. Boromir is an emissary of Gondor." Legolas then smirked and glanced over at his dwarf companion condescendingly. "Gimli represents the dwarves." Gimli grabbed his axe menacingly but kept his distance.

"Are you extremely wise or a destined leader? Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor, though Gondor doesn't need one, and Gandalf is one of the wisest of wizards," said Boromir.

Gandalf sat down on a log, polishing the crystals for his staff. "Actually, I'm the wisest now. The formerly wisest wizard succumbed to madness. Very upsetting."

Annoianse thought about this. "No, not really. I think I'm brilliant and creative and ever so clever but I don't have credentials for it."

The members of the fellowship exchanged questioning glances. Boromir shrugged. "That really covers it. Sorry. All spots are currently filled."

"But I'm a natural at everything! Give me a week!" she cried.

"Terribly sorry, child. We really must get moving," Gandalf said as he stood and walked over to Annoianse, patting her on the shoulder.

Annoianse's face lit up. "Well what about Frodo? We don't need him! I could take his place!"

A collective groan was uttered by the fellowship. "He's the ringbearer. Frodo has the best chance of making it to Mordor before the ring corrupts him. Without him the whole expedition is a tad silly," Gandalf explained.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor for the fun of it," Boromir added gravely.

Glancing around desperately, Annoianse tried once more. "What about Bill? I could do Bill's job!"

Pippin promptly spit out his food. "Yew mean the pony? Yew want ta take the place of a pack animal?" The hobbits struggled to reign in their laughter. There was an abundance of giggling, chortling, and snickering.

"I'd be marvelous at it!" she pleaded.

Gimli tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, you might do. But Bill is already packed up and I doubt if Samwise would allow us to leave him behind."

"I most certainly would not!" Sam agreed.

"I'm sorry lady but we cannot permit you to join the fellowship," Aragorn told her.

With that said, the fellowship again started moving down the road that began their quest to destroy the ring of power. A perilous quest to destroy the enemy's ultimate creation of evil; one that was even now whispering seductively into the ears of the nine brave souls who would destroy it. Ten, if you count Bill. They all seemed proud but burdened as they disappeared over the first hill, into the misty morning.

The grand atmospheric moment was then utterly destroyed by Annoianse's tantrum. The beautiful maiden warrior elf stomped on the ground and whined the most melodic whine, reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, "I'm gonna join that fellowship and save the day and have a whirlwind romance! I am, I am, I am!"

The young Annoianse refused to admit defeat, and as the foul wind blew through the trees she knew she had a destiny. A destiny to join the fellowship on their perilous quest and face the many dangers by their sides. She alone could save the two men who possessed uncanny skill with a sword, the dwarf whose axe was nearly an extension of his arm, the elf who could fire ten arrows in five seconds with accuracy and the four hobbits who had more will and inner strength than any of the other races hence their ability to carry the ring for longer periods of time then men without being corrupted.

Yes, she would save them all. Because she was _special._

And besides, that Legolas looked cute.

_And so ends Part the First…_

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(1)Fran Walsh, screenwriter and wife/partner of Peter Jackson, who helped the sound department on FotR by providing almost all of the spine tingling screams for the Ringwraiths.


	2. Chapter 2

_Revised Author's Note: _Here is the second chapter of the might-be-continued story. The original author's note was a long explanation of how and why I was switching back and forth between book canon and movie canon. In the spirit of re-writing author's notes, I'll sum up: I went back and forth between book canon and movie canon. There - I've now spared you all a not terribly interesting read about why I wrote the c_rabain _scene the way I did. You can thank me later.

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It had been days since the fellowship had ventured off of the road to head south from the Ford of Bruinen. It was an unwelcoming landscape, long bereft of life save for birds and other wild creatures. Yet as the fellowship passed, even those seemed to abandon the land. Their journey was chilled with few moments of warmth in the isolated land of Hollin. Gandalf explained to the hobbits when they entered Hollin that it was a land once inhabited by elves. Then it was called Eregion. The fair folk had moved on and now it belonged to the beasts.

"And how would you expect us to know the difference?" Gimli had muttered under his breath.

Their plan was to go through Redhorn Gate, but a shadow grew in the minds of the fellowship. Something unnatural was afoot in Hollin. The birds that had once been plentiful were not there. It disturbed Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas greatly. Something was wrong.

That was a sentiment Annoianse agreed with. The elf's hair had begun to grow back in patches and its natural coppery-red had been dulled by the dirt that held fast to the delicate locks. The new patches were a fine ruby red fuzz growing between the remaining long locks of scorched onyx black and smoky rust. Her fair skin was artfully smudged with mud from the last swamp she had trudged through. "Why can't the fellowship use roads like normal people?" whined Annoianse.

Her golden bow and quiver had not come unscathed. They too bore the marks of having slept in scratchy brush, cold plains and unwelcoming swampland. The gold plating on the bow had begun to chip off, exposing the wood beneath. The quiver was now dented from Annoianse landing on it when she tripped over the rotting carcass of a boar. These things did not dampen her spirits. Her dedication was honed to perfection and these trivialities could be born. If nothing else, they gave her a wonderfully earthy look. It simply was a change in style.

What disturbed her was that while she'd seen evidence the fellowship had passed this way, she had yet to see them while they were moving. She was an elf, she should have been able to sense them or at least hear them if they were nearby. She was an excellent tracker, if she did say so herself, so why hadn't she caught up with them? Five of them have tiny legs which could not give them the speed her long, slender legs could. She should have reached them as soon as they left the road and entered rough terrain. Her senses were failing her.

She was cursed. Nothing short of that could mar her perfection.

At that moment, the fellowship had assembled in a hush to hear Pippin's news. The young hobbit thought he had spotted a mushroom a short ways behind his companions and set after it in a way that only a hobbit who had been denied his second breakfast could. Halfway to his goal he looked up at the hill in the northeast. A creature was clamoring down the slope, dirty and haggard. Pippin yelped and ran back to the others, who now awaited his explanation.

"It was horrible! I don't think I can eat anything for a week!" Pippin cried.

Merry stared at his friend, shocked. "A whole week?" For Pippin to make a statement like that, it must have been horrendous. The hobbits huddled closer together, their eyes darting about in fear.

Pippin's terrified countenance lit up as he had an idea. "What if it were that Gollum creature? It could have been that!"

"It is daylight and Gollum prefers to travel at night. You would do well not to wander off again, fool of a Took!" warned Gandalf gruffly. The wizard glared at the hobbit a moment more, then turned and began walking south once more. Only Aragorn noticed when the wizard quickly glanced northeast to scan the hillside.

Another day passed and the party rested near the bottom of the mountain slope on a rocky outcropping while they ate. Gandalf sat smoking his pipe, while Legolas watched the skies to the south. "If anyone asked me, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way around," said Gimli, to no one in particular. He moved to stand near Gandalf and Legolas. The dwarf inhaled to continue his diatribe when Legolas turned on his heel and looked towards the steepest part of the slope.

A loud scraping sound came from beyond the rock.

Merry, Pippin and Boromir stopped their mirthful sword training to stare out at the rock edge. Frodo and Sam looked up from their plates of sausages and Aragorn stood.

A dirty, slender hand grappled the top edge of the rock.

"What is this?" asked Boromir.

The hand began to climb and a figure crawled on top of the rock. It was Annoianse.

"I think it's an elf," Gimli chortled. Legolas was about to protest on behalf of his race when he realized the dwarf was right. He then winced.

She was confused. She saw the dwarf's lips move, as much as one could past the beard, but heard nothing. It must be the curse she was under. Annoianse had heard from an elf near Rivendell that the wizard Saruman had fallen to darkness. He must have heard of her power and her desire to help the fellowship. Saruman was the only one, short of Sauron, with enough power to stop one as strong as she.

Sam saw a bit of grey fuzz in the elf's ear. "That don't go there! Why's she got a vole in her ear, master Frodo?" cried Sam in disgust. Frodo's eyes widened.

"I don't know, Sam." he replied.

Annoianse squinted at Samwise. His mouth was moving but she still couldn't hear. Suddenly she felt a hand softly brush her cheek and spun around. As she turned, she heard a 'pop' and felt a slight tug on her ear. There was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, holding the shivering vole. Then she heard voices. Well, it was laughter. But she could hear them! Whatever curse she had been under, it was now lifted.

"Oh thank you, my lord. With your touch you have healed me!" declared Annoianse. She leaned forward and peered at the vole. "What is that you hold?"

Aragorn struggled to be chivalrous to the deranged elf. Elves were an ancient people, noble and fair. His deep respect for the race narrowly prevented him from laughing. "A rodent, lady. It sought warmth in your ear."

"Who are you?" Frodo asked, confused.

A smile bloomed on Annoianse's face. It wilted when she realized the hobbit wasn't making a joke. He really didn't remember her. But he _had_ to remember her. She was unique and wonderful and perfect. She had unusual features and was skilled in all things. _Everyone_ remembered her. In theory.

"Are you the lady whose head was ablaze?" asked Legolas.

Annoianse nodded. _'I knew they remembered me,'_ she thought. "I wish to join the fellowship."

Everyone groaned.

Boromir sat and held his head in his hands. "Have we not established that we neither want nor need you here?" He raised his head and glared at Annoianse. Uncomprehending, she stared blankly at Boromir; then Annoianse turned back to the group.

"I wish to join the fellowship," she repeated.

Aragorn sighed. "We walk into danger. It is not safe for you and we do not have enough supplies for for another member," explained Aragorn.

Gesturing wildly, she replied, "But I'm skill in many fields: swordplay, riding, archery..."

"Yes, but you're an elf. You've had thousands of years to master... things. Its not very shocking," said Pippin.

"Or unusual," added Merry. The hobbits turned to each other and nodded.

Annoianse looked dissolutely up at the sky then closed her eyes. "Where would you have me go?"

Boromir cocked his head to one side and began to quietly sing, "O'er the hills and o'er the main. Through Flanders, Portugal and..." The Steward's son was smacked on the back of the head.

"You are one of the fellowship, not a chosen man(1)," Legolas hissed in Boromir's ear. Boromir blinked several times, as if he were waking from slumber. A stern expression took hold of his face and he walked over to sharpen his daggers. Gimli snorted, amused.

"Go home. We do not have enough provisions for ten. Aragorn has told you this," said Gimli. The dwarf was quickly loosing his patience and given how much patience dwarves have for elves to begin with, she was nearing dangerous territory.

Annoianse pouted. "I'm a wonderful survivalist! I don't need much and I'd eat far less than a hobbit..."

"Everyone eats less than a hobbit," chuckled Gandalf.

"Besides, you look half dead," said Sam. Everyone turned to stare at the hobbit, amazed he'd been that outspoken. Sam blushed and stammered a quiet "sorry".

Another tactic was clearly needed. Annoiance looked towards Legolas and smiled coyly. "Do you not want me in your company? Do you not long for the companionship of your own kind?" she purred. Legolas gulped but not for the reason she assumed. _'My charms are still strong,'_ she thought. He slowly walked backwards from Annoianse but stopped when something caught his attention.

Legolas tilted his head swiftly, sensing something. Looking up at the sky, he pointed at a black mass coming towards them.

"It is moving too fast to be a cloud, and against the wind," said Gimli.

Gandalf turned to the group and yelled, "Quick, hide!" The fellowship moved swiftly to hide under the sheets of rock that jutted out from the lower slope of the mountain. Sam extinguished the cooking fire and everyone sought shelter, hidden and huddled.

Except for Annoianse, still perched on her rock. Turning to quickly to see the oncoming flock of birds, she lost her footing and fell backwards. A chorus of noble curses and shrieks were muffled by the squawking of the crows that flew over the campground. Eventually, they turned and headed north west.

Once the crows were out of sight, the fellowship came out from their hiding places. "What was that?" asked Sam, shaken.

"_Crabain_ from Dunland and Fangorn," said Legolas. "A regiment of black crows."

"Spies of the enemy. Our path is no longer safe," said Gandalf. He stared at the mountain towering before him. "We must take the pass of Caradhras." Those that knew the reputation of the White Mountains were silent at the dangerous route. Those that didn't were frightened still by Gandalf's ominous tone. As they gathered their supplies, Pippin stopped and looked about for a moment.

"Where did that odd elf go?" he wondered. With a shrug, he returned to the fellowship as they began their trek up Caradhras.

He was too far away to hear the muffled cry below, declaring "I'll join you yet!"

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(1) The Chosen Men were the special group of riflemen in the Peninsular War from the "Sharpe" miniseries, staring Sean Bean as Richard Sharpe. "Over the Hills and Far Away" was it's theme song and the chorus went:

_O'er the hills and o'er the main.  
Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain  
King George commands and we obey -  
Over the hills and far away_


End file.
